If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more
by ZBBZL
Summary: AU based on Clueless. Donald Blye and his daughter Kensi move to L.A. to go live with Lauren Deeks, Don's new wife, and her son, Marty.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**:_ If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more_  
**AU**: loosely based on the movie Clueless, itself loosely based on the book Emma

**A/N**: You know what? I don't like AUs. I can come up with a hundred ideas for an AU story and then I laugh about it because hey, Deeks as Han Solo or Kensi as a Greek Goddess just sounds ridiculous. And yet here I am, writing an AU based on Clueless where Kensi and Deeks become siblings after their parents get married. FORGIVE ME. I promise I'll go back to retirement after this. ;)

And now, here is to hoping you won't kick my ass back to the fanfic retirement house and enjoy this!

* * *

They're _too_ _blond_, Kensi decides. Perfect Californian tan and white teeth, ocean blue eyes, curly golden hair and stupid smoldering charm, the Deeks represent the West Coast in the most annoying way. And if there's one thing that Kensi hates, it _is_ the West Coast.

Especially _Los Angeles_.

It's like living in a commercial for sunscreen or ice-cream every single day of the year. It's always sunny and hot, even in winter and _damn_, no matter what her father says about it, Kensi loves her Christmas in winterland. But there's no snow in L.A.; the city decorates its palm trees with tinsels and ornaments, people put lights on their houses, but it just doesn't feel the same to celebrate Christmas on the beach.

Nothing feels the same, really.

And it's not even really about hating having to move to L.A. and leave her friends and school behind, or even her dad's new fiancée. Lauren is nice, and despite this Barbie Mermaid thing about her, she's actually smart and fun to be around. Sure, she does spend too much time trying to take her out for step-daughter/step-mother bonding time to the mall, but Kensi actually quite enjoys their violin lessons together. No, the real problem is _not_ Lauren.

It's her _son_.

Sixteen year-old Martin – Kensi refuses to give in and call him _Marty_ – is the bane of her existence. He is everything that Kensi abhors: loud and obnoxious, skirt-chaser and self-proclaimed heartbreaker. He smells like fish because of all his hours spent at the beach surfing and hitting on girls, and she can't stand his stupid drawl.

She just _cannot_.

"What's up, little duck?" she hears him say before she can see him. When she turns, he's leaning against the doorframe, his arms lazily crossed over his chest. "Shouldn't you be checking on your dad, making sure that he didn't choke himself to death with his tie?" he teases.

Kensi glares at him, trying to look intimidating as she walks to him, but failing as she still can't walk on her heels without stumbling every few steps, hence the duck and waddling jokes. Marty catches her by the elbow as she almost twists her ankle, and steadies her by lightly putting his hands on her waist – she bites her tongue before saying _thank you_. "What about you? Shouldn't you get ready, too?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at his disheveled state.

That's another thing she deeply dislikes about him: Marty Deeks always looks like he brushed his hair with the wind, and she just doesn't understand why girls dig the flannel plaid shirts and khakis. Add to that the facial hair he's starting to grow, the stupid scruff that tickles her skin when their parents force them to hug after a fight, and it's just like his life ambition is to become Shaggy from _Scooby-Doo_. Her father is the exact contrary; always groomed and wearing a suit, his lawyer uniform as he likes to call it, and Kensi _so_ wishes he could have some kind of fashion influence on her ridiculous step-brother.

Marty just winks at her. "I'm wearing a shirt and a tie. What more can you expect from me?" he asks.

Kensi rolls her eyes. "Well, first, maybe you could tuck your shirt in your pants, which I notice you haven't bothered to iron," she snorts, "and maybe it wouldn't kill you to actually knot your tie instead of just letting it hang around your neck like that."

"Well, actually, it could," Marty replies easily. "Do you know how many people have died because of this? Ties are dangerous things."

Kensi doesn't even bother acknowledging him this time. Instead, she lifts her hands to his neck and redoes his knot like she's done it for her father a hundredth time since she was six years-old. Marty fidgets like a petulant two year-old, of course – wouldn't be him if he didn't – and Kensi jabs his chest with her finger. "Here you go," she says as she takes a step back to look at him. "Not half bad."

Marty grins, that infuriating grin he pretends to be seductive and uses on just about anything in (and out of) a skirt. "Does that mean you think I'm tremendously handsome, Ducky?" he teases her, picking a lost tendril between his fingers and tucking it behind her ear. "Because from now on, I'm gonna be your big brother so you might not want to fall in love with me or things might get awkward."

"Eww, as if!" she exclaims in disgust as she stomps out, her heels clicking on the floor.

God, this boy is just the _worst_.

(Half an hour later, when he crooks his elbow so she can tuck her arm in his as they walk down the aisle to go sit on the front row, Kensi thinks that _maybe_ he can be trained, after all.)

* * *

She hasn't seen her dad smile this brightly in years, not ever since her mother passed away. They've been leading a good life, just the two of them, but even Kensi has to admit that tolerating Marty Deeks is worth it as she watches her father dance with his new bride.

She's so entranced by the vision, her father staring at Lauren like she's the most beautiful thing he's laid eyes upon, and Lauren gazing back with just as much love, that she doesn't see _him_ coming until he's standing before her, hand extended to her. "Wanna dance?" Marty offers.

Kensi looks up at him suspiciously, narrowing her mismatched dark eyes at him. Here is another thing that irks her about Marty; she never knows if he's serious and if he means what he says. In the past six months that she and her father have moved to L.A. to live with Lauren and her son, Kensi still hasn't learned how to make the difference between serious Marty and _did you really think I meant it_ Marty. "Don't you have some third-degree cousin you want to try to hook up with?" she asks as she crinkles her nose.

To her surprise, Marty laughs, and damn if he doesn't look _kind_ _of_ handsome when he does. "You've been hiding your sense of humor, Kensi. Maybe you're not as boring and bossy and stuck-up as I thought you were." She rolls her eyes, and his smile just grows bigger. "Come on, Kens. I promise that tomorrow I'll go back to ruining your life. But we should pretend to be one big happy family, at least tonight."

Marty gives her his best _Colgate extra-white_ smile and bows a little, offering her his hand again. She tries to roll her eyes, really, she _does_, but Kensi is thirteen and there's a flutter in her stomach that she cannot control; Marty is an idiot but he's possibly the cutest idiot she's ever met. She lets him lead her to the dancefloor, her small hand in his much larger one, and she's on the verge of telling him that he's not as terrible as she thought either when he nudges her foot with his. "What?" she frowns.

"Take these off and step on my feet," he replies as if it was so obvious. "You can't even walk on these, I'm not risking you stabbing me with your heels. So take them off."

It was too good to be true, Kensi thinks. "I'm thirteen, not _five_, Martin," she hisses in annoyance as she voluntarily steps her heel on his foot, beaming as Marty winces. He opens his mouth, most certainly to threaten her to drown her in the ocean, when she tilts her head towards their parents. "You wouldn't want to threaten or harm your dearest sister in front of your mommy who thinks you're an angel, _baby boo_," she says, in her best Lauren impression.

"You're not my _sister_," Marty says through gritted teeth as he smiles at his mother and Donald through the crowd. "Remind me not to be nice to you ever again, _Princess_," he adds, retaliating by tickling the patch of bare skin at her back, eliciting the loudest giggle from Kensi.

"I hate you so much," she tells him, big smile on her face as he twirls her. "I'm gonna embarrass you in front of your friends. I'm gonna ruin all your dates."

"At least _I'm_ going on dates, Ducky," Marty teases her. "You'll forever live knowing that your brother was the first one to invite you for a dance because no other boy would."

The song ends, and Kensi steps on his foot again at the same time as she presses a kiss to his shaven jaw, hearing the click of a camera immortalizing their sibling love. "I thought I wasn't your sister, _bro_," she says sweetly.

Marty doesn't answer. He spends the night using his smoldering charm on her cousin Ella, and when she finds them kissing hours later, Kensi doesn't mind at all.

He's so gross anyway, and she's never liked Ella very much. It's as if they were meant to be.

* * *

It's all _his_ fault, she'd decide later, but for now Kensi is too busy crying out of frustration as she sits in the nurse's office, huddled up in pain in a little chair as the nurse stares at her sympathetically. "Your brother will be there soon, sweetheart," she tells her with a gentle smile.

Kensi gives her a little nod, unable to force a smile on her lips. Her stomach hurts like hell and she's positively sure she's going to _die_ and _maybe_ she would have had tampons and ibuprofen if her dear _brother_ had gone to the pharmacy when his mom asked him to instead of making out with Melanie Madson on the backseat of his car for hours. Maybe she wouldn't be sitting in the nurse's office, wearing someone else's old gym clothes and disposable underwear because she started surfing the crimson wave and had nothing for it, all because of Marty Deeks.

Everything was _definitely_ his fault.

"Hello, Miss Taylor," she hears him say, and when Kensi looks up, here he is, poking a blonde head through the door and dropping his charm on the old nurse.

"Marty Deeks!" the woman beams. "You didn't tell me that Marty was your brother, girlie," she adds, turning to Kensi as if his name only was sacred.

"We try to keep it quiet, actually," Marty chuckles with a wink. "It's not good for my reputation."

The old woman squeezes his arm, almost as if feeling up the muscles there. "On the contrary, Marty. Girls would swoon over a lovely boy who comes helping his little sister in her hour of need."

Kensi almost interjects there, reminding them that she wouldn't be in such a predicament if Marty the hero cared so much about lady troubles, but another vicious cramp hits her and she cringes.

Marty finally turns to her, and he drops the charming mask for a second, his blue eyes filled with concern as he takes in her pale skin. "How you feeling, Princess?" he asks softly, touching the back of his hand to her forehead.

"Like the new girl whose reputation is forever ruined because she got her period right in the middle of the cafeteria," Kensi replies drily, pushing his hand away from her sweaty skin. "Can we go home now?" she asks, not quite hiding the pain in her voice as she looks up at him with pleading eyes.

"Sure," Marty nods. "I got you some clothes," he adds, "I figured you would want to get changed, and honestly, I don't want you to go staining my passenger seat," he tries to joke to soften his sentimental streak. He hands her a purple bag that she recognizes as hers, one of her rare girly belongings, and he runs a hand through his hair before nodding to the nurse. "Nice seeing you again, Ms. Taylor. I – uh, I will go wait outside now."

Kensi peeks inside the bag, glad not to see one of his terrible plaid shirts in it. She gives him a small, tentative smile, and she goes to the bathroom as he leaves the room to wait for her outside in the hallway. She meets him there five minutes later, not daring to meet his eyes after imagining him rummaging through her underwear drawer to get her a new pair of panties, and Kensi stares at the ground as they walk to his car.

She's silent through the ride home, and Marty just lets her be as he sings along to the radio with that voice that could almost sound good if he didn't feel the need to be so dramatic about it. She storms out of the car as quickly as she can once they arrive home, half-running and half-waddling to the front door, but she hardly gets to the staircase before Marty catches up with her. "I've spent the last five years alone with my mom ever since my dad left us," he says, and Kensi stops on her tracks and slowly turns to him, raising a curious eyebrow at him. "So I'm kinda used to the quick runs to the store to get tampons and Dove bars. Just in case you thought I was a jerk who didn't care," he adds with a shrug.

Kensi's taken aback by his blunt honesty. She knows little about Lauren's first marriage and Marty's father; her father had only told her that Lauren was divorced and had a son three years older than her when they'd gotten serious. She'd never thought to ask why her step-brother never seemed to visit his father.

"Not a _jerk_," Kensi says. "Just too busy getting to second base with Slutty Melanie to remember to go to the pharmacy," she tries to tease him.

Marty grins, hooking his car keys by the door and dropping his bag before slumping on the couch. "What do you even know about second base?" he asks her as he turns the TV on, flicking through channels until he finds a basketball game. "And Melanie's not a slut," he adds, glancing at Kensi as she takes a seat on the other side of the couch, folding her legs beneath her.

"Oh, _come on_. I've been here for less than a year and even _I_ know about Melanie Madson. Her brother's in my Math class. Some boys actually _pay_ him to be invited over to their house and take a peek at her in their pool."

"Middle school boys are not what they used to be," Marty sighs heavily. He grabs a pillow and tucks it behind his head and props his feet on the coffee table. "By the way, I got you some Twinkies on my way to picking you up," he says, motioning to a plastic bag. "You like Twinkies, right?"

Kensi covers a yawn with her hand before nodding. "Who _doesn't_ love Twinkies, Martin?" she asks him, yawning again.

When she wakes up two hours later, the TV is off and there's a blanket draped over her body. Lauren is sitting beside her and brushes a gentle hand to her forehead, and her dad is pretending to be cooking in the kitchen even though Kensi knows he's just completely _freaked out_ by lady business.

When she asks where Marty is, Lauren tells her he offered to go for grocery shopping.

* * *

"Can someone explain to me why _I'm_ here again?" Marty whines as his mother waves shoes and purses in front of his face. "Like, Ducky spends her time calling me a tramp because I happen to like plaid, so why are my presence and opinion required here?"

Lauren just smiles. "I know Don asked you to watch over her and make sure her dress didn't show too much skin. And _don't_ even pretend you won't break her date's nose if you don't like the way he looks at her, Marty," she adds as she points a finger at him. "I _know_ you. You care about _her_."

Marty just rolls his eyes, lazily waving his hand at her. "Matthew's fourteen. Of course he's gonna look at her and gawk, _so_ _of course_ I'll have to break his nose anyway. Her dress is quite irrelevant to the matter," he shrugs. "Can I go now?"

His mother is about to tell him to quit acting like a two year-old when Kensi comes out of the changing room wearing a deep navy blue gown with a thin silver veil. She looks shyly at her step-mother, nervously tucking a curly strand behind her ear. "What do you think?" she asks as she stands there, awkward in heels that she believes she'll never be comfortable in.

"You look gorgeous, Kensi," Lauren smiles at her, reaching out to her to take her hand. "Come on, take a swirl. Can you move alright?"

"It'd be better without the heels," Kensi whines, raising the hem of her gown to reveal silver high heels. "I'm never gonna get used to those."

"They make your legs look even longer, honey," Lauren says. "And you're already so tall, it's a great look on you. Don't you think so, Marty?" she asks as she turns to her son. "Doesn't Kensi look beautiful?"

In all honesty, she does. In the way that a little sister can be, of course. Her father definitely won't be happy about all the bare skin, and if he's honest with himself, Marty sure isn't either. Thinking about a teenage boy – never mind that _he's_ one, too – with his hands on her makes him want to punch a wall, but isn't it what it feels like to be a big brother? He's supposed to want to protect her at all costs, even if it means getting expelled for breaking a kid's nose.

"Not half bad," he says, echoing her words from a year before. When Lauren glares at him, he adds, "You started out as such an ugly duckling and somehow suddenly became a swan."

Kensi laughs. "_The Swan Princess_? Really, Martin?" she asks, covering her giggles with her hand.

"The stupid song kinda got stuck in my head, you know, since you sing it every day in the shower."

"Maybe you shouldn't lurk around the bathroom then," Kensi retorts easily, sticking her tongue at him.

Lauren just rolls her eyes at her son and step-daughter. "I'll be over here, looking at purses if any of you actually care about this winter ball."

"Hey," Marty says, lifting his hands, "I did tell you right upfront that I _didn't_."

(And he _did_ warn them that he would break Matthew's nose anyway. Dumb kid thought he could try to sneak out and make out with Marty Deeks' step-sister – he had it coming.)

* * *

She's fifteen when she gets her heart broken for the first time, and Matthew has nothing to do with it.

Despite all of their stupid fights over the TV remote or who gets to take their shower first, Kensi misses Marty like crazy once he starts undergrad. He only comes back on the week-ends when he's not too busy, and even though he swore that he would call her every day, he stops after a couple months. That's about the time when Kensi realizes that without him, the house is desperately silent.

She suddenly notices things that she never did until then. How her father comes home so late sometimes that days can go by when she just hears his footsteps in the hallway in the morning or late at night after she went to bed. How Lauren's constant smile has faded, and how she forces one on when Kensi is there. On the rare nights when they have dinner together, her father and Lauren just exchange polite news about their day; about Don's clients, and Lauren's violin classes. Kensi just sits there, missing the brother she never knew she'd come to _need_ so much.

He's home one week-end not long before Christmas, studying in his bedroom, when Kensi knocks on his door. "Can we talk?" she asks him almost coyly as she opens it, not quite meeting his gaze.

"What's going on, Ducky?" Marty greets her, giving her an encouraging smile. "Having boy troubles?" he asks as he pats the spot next to him in bed. "I'm taking this Psychology class, I'm sure I can solve all your problems."

"I think that your mom and my dad are going to get a divorce," she bursts out bluntly, biting on her bottom lip not to cry.

His blue eyes go wide, and then Marty frowns. "Wh-what?" he asks, looking at her like she just dropped a bomb on him, and maybe she did. "Why, what happened? Did Don tell you something?"

Kensi just stands there, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. "I don't know. They don't talk anymore," she whispers, her eyes focused on the textbooks and papers spread on his comforter. "My dad's always at work and your mom's sad. She tries to hide it from me, but she looks just like my dad before they met and…" She pauses, swallowing hard as the words get stuck in her throat. This can't be happening – it just _can't_. "I don't know what to do."

"Hey, it's not your fault," Marty says, pulling her to him to sit her on the bed. "None of this is on you, Kensi," he repeats slowly, looking her in the eye. "First of all, we don't know what's going on between them so there's no point in imagining things. And even if it is true, it's their business. None of it is because of you. You don't have to be the one to fix things up, Kens. God, you're just a kid. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

It's that last sentence that sends her spiraling down, and makes her shed the tears she's been trying to hold for weeks. She loves her dad but he's an idiot because he's taking Lauren for granted, and Lauren is such a great woman but she bottles her feelings inside instead of talking and _damn_, Marty's gone and Kensi's all alone and she never thought she needed more than what she used to have but now that she has it, she can't imagine losing it – losing any of this. She can't imagine not having Lauren ask her about Matthew every time they go on a date; she can't imagine going back to saying that she's an only child now that she knows what it's like to have a brother. It may have only been a couple years, but God, did it feel nice.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," Marty says softly as he pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her, trying to shield her from the rest of the world. It'll be Christmas in a week, and Christmas is about family gatherings and love and joy and damn, it shouldn't be about a kid crying because she thinks she didn't do enough to save her father's marriage. It shouldn't be about _their_ family falling apart.

She curls to his side and cries herself to sleep, and when his mother knocks on his door hours later to tell him that dinner is ready, she looks stunned to find Kensi there, looking oh so small next to him.

"Mom, I think we need to talk," Marty tells her, and his heart collides painfully against his chest as his mother nods, saying that they indeed do.

* * *

January comes with Marty's birthday, and Kensi just can't stand being in that house anymore, not with her father and step-mother both packing their things and looking for a new place. They're so busy trying to hold it together and not see that despite them remaining friends, their marriage is still a failure, that they don't even notice that Kensi's gone or that Matthew hasn't come over since before Christmas.

Marty gets the surprise of his life on the morning of the eighth, when he finds his step-sister at the door of his dorm. "I wasn't gonna let them ruin your birthday, too," she says as he looks at her with sleepy eyes, his messy hair falling over his eyes as he stands there in his pajamas.

He smiles at her and lets her in, and they sit on his little bed to share the box of cookies she brought. She pulls out a candle from her pocket, lights it up, and says, "Make a wish."

He wishes that things never change between them.

(Of course, they do.)

* * *

_to be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Apologies for the delay. Real-life is interfering, between moving out and looking for a new apartment and tons of other things that come before writing. I've decided to give you guys a shorter chapter, and split this story into three chapters instead of making you wait longer just to give you a bigger chapter. I'll try to update the last chapter and complete the story within the next two weeks. Hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

She stares at the piece of paper, its title in bold characters nagging at her. _Petition for divorce_. What does that even mean? Is a marriage nothing more than a signature at the bottom of a page? Is that really what their _family_ was about?

"So, that's it?" Kensi asks her father in disbelief. "You just signed it and it's _over_?" She stands up abruptly, almost knocking her chair out as she does. She's angry now; her father is just sitting at the kitchen table of their new loft, calm and stoic and damn, how can he be so calm when Kensi feels like she needs to learn how to _breathe_ again. "You're not even going to _try_ to make things better?" she pleads.

"Kensi…" Donald says softly, rubbing at his temple. "It's not that easy. Sometimes you just _can't_ figure things out."

"Yes you can!" she exclaims, and every word she forces out feels like someone is jabbing a sword at her heart. "You love her and she loves you. _What_ is there to figure out? You're just not making any effort!"

Don sighs heavily. "Kensi," he warns her tiredly. "This is between Lauren and me."

"No, it's not, Dad!" Kensi replies drily. "It's really not. Because I'm here, and Martin's here too, and we're a family and _you_ are acting like this is just another one of your cases and you can walk away from it once the papers are signed." She sees the hurt flashing on his face, but Kensi doesn't care at the moment. All she cares about is the fact that it feels like someone ripped the rug out from underneath her feet after she'd finally been given some stable ground. "You said you loved her, and I was happy for you," she goes on, "and when you said we were moving here, I didn't say anything, did I? I didn't throw a tantrum about leaving my friends and my school and my home. You were happy and that's all that mattered to me. And now you're telling me that true love can't even last _two years_?" The tears roll freely now, anger and frustration and heartbreak all mixed together. "You're telling me that you can't even try to make things work with the woman you left everything behind for?"

Her father pushes his chair off and stands too, rounding the table to reach her and take her hand in his. "I know it's a lot to take in, Kens, but –"

"But _what_?" Kensi says, shrugging his touch away and taking a step back. "I'm supposed to just act like none of this happened? Like they don't exist?"

Donald frowns and takes her hands in his again, meeting her gaze with serious eyes. "I will never ask you to do that, baby girl. You divorce a wife, Kens, not a family," he adds softly. "If you want to see Lauren and Marty, you can. Because we didn't work out doesn't mean that you have to lose them. And they both love you, too. Things don't have to change."

"But they _will_," Kensi whispers, freeing one of her hands to wipe her tears. "Maybe not right now, but at some point they'll move on with their lives and they won't care about me anymore." Her father gives her a smile, and Kensi looks up at him with puffy, confused eyes. "What?"

He gathers her in his arms, and this time, Kensi lets him; she embraces the warmth of his strong arms around her and finds comfort in it. "Here's something about you that you don't seem to be aware of, Kensi Marie Blye," her father starts. "It's impossible for people to stop caring about you."

She half snorts, half sneezes. "We'll see about that when Marty's too busy falling in love with some crazy college girl to come over and watch the game."

Don smiles, dropping a light kiss to her forehead. "Oh, I don't know about that," he says softly. "This boy is a drop everything for you kind of guy. He cares about you a lot. I expect to see him hanging out here all the time."

Despite herself, Kensi feels her lips twitch up in a small smile. "As if," she replies quietly.

("And since when is he _Marty_ to you?" Don teases her later that evening.)

* * *

"You're not listening to me!" Kensi sighs, half amused and half annoyed.

She can feel him smile on the other end of the line when he speaks. "Of course I am," Marty says teasingly, despite the fact that she can hear him turn pages and try to study. "Lara's throwing a party and you're hoping that this Jack dude will be there because he was sent by the Gods," he says, mimicking her voice. "You hate your History teacher, you had peanut butter for lunch and there's this new girl from D.C. that you've decided to make your new best friend because it's so hard to move to Freaky Cali and poor girl needs some guidance."

He pauses, and Kensi can't help but grin. "I've seen dogs wearing sunglasses, Martin," she chides him, using his full name and that voice filled with that ever disbelief of this whole new world that is Los Angeles. "You don't even know how to tie your shoelaces!"

"This is L.A., Kens! I grew up in sandals," he counters easily, and she can just see him rolling his eyes at her. "Besides, you shouldn't be so judgmental. There's a good ninety percent chance that your boy Jack is a surfer."

This time, it's Kensi's turn to roll her eyes. "As if," she says, "He's, like, _dreamy_. Perfect jaw, muscles everywhere. There's absolutely _no_ _chance_ he's a surfer."

Marty chuckles. "That description perfectly suits _me_, and I am a surfer," he replies. She takes a moment too long to embellish a gag and they both know it, so he goes on, "Anyway, as your wise and only, I have to tell you that older boys only have one thing in mind and that you shouldn't go anywhere near them."

Kensi scoffs. "You sound like my dad. Except that when I asked him what was that _thing_ that boys had in mind, he blushed and left for his office just like the day I told him I started my period," she snorts.

"No dad wants to tell his daughter that he once was the hormonal teenage boy he's warning her against," he says. "And I don't want to hear about your love life any more than I need to, either," he then adds.

Kensi glares at him over the phone – too bad he can't see it. "Wow, did Marty the sexist, double-standard, _do as I say and not as I do_, join us and you didn't tell me?" she asks.

"Ah, funny Kensi is back, I see," Marty chuckles. "And nope, I'm not saying that I don't want you to go out and have fun _because_ you're a girl. I just don't want to hear about it because you're a teenage girl who refers to boys as being sent by the Gods, and my masculinity just took a serious blow from all this girly chit-chat." He pauses, and Kensi hears him shift, grabbing things around him. "Anyway, I gotta go."

She wants to ask him where he's going, or who he's seeing, but Kensi decides against it. She bites on her lip, worrying it between her teeth, waiting a few extra seconds so maybe he'll tell her – he doesn't. With a sigh, she speaks again. "Are you coming home anytime soon?" she does ask, trying not to sound clingy but failing miserably.

Kensi knows she sounds like a child, but at the same time she still _is_ one and damn, she would have never thought three years ago that she'd grow _so_ attached to him; but she did. They may not be related anymore, but Kensi's day always gets better if they get to talk on the phone or when Marty comes to visit; he's the one she turns to when she wants to talk or needs advice, no matter how many times she repeats that she's not a little girl and that he's only three years (_and a half_, he always specifies) older than her. For all their banter and sometimes bickering, she couldn't imagine not having him in her life.

He sighs heavily, and for a moment, she allows herself to believe that he feels the same; that he doesn't only see her as the girl who cried herself to sleep in his arms and who now feels obligated to look after her. "You could come over, too," he says, "I'd just have to hide you in the closet if RAs come check. You know, we're not supposed to have girls over," he adds in a whisper.

She laughs, that scary cackle she does that he always mocks. "Yeah, as if that kept you from bringing your _blondes_ over," she snorts, remembering all the Bethanys, Tiffanys and Cassidys she's seen sneaking in Marty's bedroom or backseat over the years.

"Well, believe it or not," he replies, "but I'm a sucker for brunettes."

He hangs up after swearing that he'll make time to come see her soon, and before she can say anything.

(She's at the door of his dorm when Friday comes, and she swears that he's as happy to see her as she is.)

* * *

They're lying on Kensi's bed, heads bent over a textbook and supposedly studying for their next Math test, when they inevitably start talking about _boys_. "Eric's cute," Nell says as she chews on her pen, a pale blush coloring her skin as she speaks.

"_Eric_?" Kensi asks, raising an eyebrow at her friend. "_Braces and glasses Eric_?" she says suspiciously, as if she thought she had misheard what Nell said. "I guess he could be cute if he had a complete makeover. The surfer look is _so_ overrated."

The other girl bites on her lip. "I don't know," she offers quietly. "Sure, he may not be cute in a _conventional_ way, but he's really nice and funny. And I kind of like his glasses," she adds, lowering her voice to a whisper.

Kensi gives her a pout, and resumes reading about things that only a boring boy like Eric could be interested in. After a while, she turns again to Nell, with that spark in her eyes that could only be defined as a stroke of pure genius by her own terms, or mischief and doom by Marty. "Callen's hot," Kensi suggests matter-of-factly.

"Callen?" Nell frowns. "That guy from Lara's party? Isn't he, like, _old_?" she asks, tilting her head in surprise.

Kensi laughs, her lips twitching up in a grin. "He's friends with her older brother, Nate. He's barely a couple years older than Marty," she says dreamily.

Nell doesn't look impressed. "Isn't he the one who prefers to go by G?" she asks. "That's _ridiculous_."

"That's what makes his charm," Kensi insists. "It makes him sounds mysterious and unreachable, a little bit badass. And he spent the night staring at you!" she says excitedly, suddenly remembering this precious piece of information.

Nell presses her lips together, stunned. "_Me_? Are you sure?" she asks in disbelief. I didn't notice a thing. _You're_ the one who talked to him the most. He was all over you."

"But he only had eyes for _you_," Kensi repeats, nodding her head along. "He was just a bit shy, unlike Mike who randomly asked you to dance with him. Trust me, boys our age are so immature they're definitely not worth our time. College guys, they're the best. Although," she adds with a chuckle, "Marty acts and thinks like a twelve year-old, so he's no reference. He tries his best to be the exception to every rule."

"He's your step-brother, right?" Nell asks, looking a bit confused. It's hard to follow Kensi, the social butterfly who knows everybody by name and is invited to every party, both thanks to her reputation of being Marty Deeks' ex step-sister and her own beauty that's caught the eye of many a senior boy.

"_Ex_ step-brother," Kensi corrects her. "My dad married his mom, but it didn't last long. He's working as an intern for my dad, so he's basically been living here lately."

As if on cue, they hear a knock on Kensi's bedroom door. Marty enters, and Kensi can't help the appreciate glance she gives him; all suited up, she can hardly recognize the surfer boy she's known for the past four years. His hair is in its familiar wild locks and a stubble beard is shadowing his face, but Kensi hasn't seen him in a shirt that wasn't flannel or plaid ever since their parents' wedding. "Kens, have you seen your dad's briefcase?" he asks as he pops his head in. That's when he sees Nell, and he gives her a smile. "Oh, hey," he says smoothly, nodding at her and eliciting a little squeaky noise from Nell. "Sorry to interrupt, girls, but I really need that briefcase."

"Have you checked Dad's office?" Kensi asks, furrowed brow as she sees the faint blush tinting her friend's cheeks.

Marty rolls his eyes, sighing. "No, Princess. I haven't checked the most obvious room in this entire place."

Nell chuckles, and Kensi narrows her eyes at her; Marty's grin only grows bigger. "Well, it's not my job to know where my dad puts his things, that's yours," Kensi replies dryly. She knows she's being too harsh, but Nell's being ridiculous and Marty, _well_, he's Marty and this in itself says a lot. "Maybe you left it with your surfboard. You still got sand in your hair."

"Do not," Marty whines childishly, still lifting a hand to his hair to fluff it – as if it needed to look any more floppy than it already does. "Come on, Kens. Come help me. Your dad is gonna kill me if I don't find it. Pretty please," he insists, doing his best puppy impression.

Nell hides her smile behind her hand, and Kensi rolls her eyes, letting a faux exasperated sigh out. "What would you do without me, uh?" she asks as she gets up, refusing the hand he holds out for her. She turns to Nell, shaking a finger in her direction. "I'll be right back. We're not done yet! We still need to come up with a plan for you and Callen!"

Nell blushes a deep shade close to her burgundy dress, and Kensi exits the room with Marty with a last wink to her. "Who's Callen?" Marty asks with that big brother voice laced with genuine concern that Kensi finds totally _ridiculous_ because, come on, he's only three years older than her so he needs to quit it.

Kensi chuckles, giving his stubbled jaw a light pat. "Aww, look at you, Marty," she cajoles, her tone teasing and light. "Are you worried about _Ducky_ going on dates?"

Marty flinches away from her touch, lightly elbowing Kensi in the side when she starts chuckling. "I'm mostly worried about you bringing your friend in your shenanigans," he says as if he had all the romance wisdom of the world. "Last time you went on a date, I had to break the boy's nose. It's not like you're a dating expert extraordinaire."

"No one asked you to," Kensi says, her brow slightly knitted for a second before she can't pretend anymore and her lips form a small smile. "Anyway, stop meddling with my inexistent love life and let's go look for that briefcase," she chides him.

(It's in his car, hidden under his beach towel.)

* * *

_to be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Here it is, the final chapter of this AU story. This one was harder than the others, a little angstier sometimes, so I hope it's still enjoyable. Hope you enjoy. :)

I would like to insist on the fact that this story is now complete, and that I do not intend on making more chapters or extending this universe.

* * *

Kensi's always prided herself in being a good judge of character and reading people easily, but _this_ she never sees coming.

When his lips touch hers, his breath warm, an arm wrapped around her waist pressing her smugly to his body, Kensi stands still, frozen on the spot for a whole minute. This _can't_ be happening – Callen's into _Nell_, he keeps looking at her, smiling at her or saying something nice about her hair. The entire school is whispering about it, how the hottest college guy _ever_ (all exaggeration aside) keeps flirting with that cute sophomore girl, how he's always waiting for her in the school parking lot at the end of the day and how all the girls are jealous and want to be her. In the span of a few weeks, it's become the one thing everybody is gossiping about. Callen has to be under the influence, that's it; he's not into _her_.

So why is he _kissing_ her?

She pushes him with a strength she's never suspected she had, and Callen almost stumbles, barely holding his balance. "What the hell?" she shouts, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Callen gives her a confused look, and she almost slaps him right there. "Why did you do that?" she asks, angry and baffled, a headache starting to pound at her temple.

"Seems pretty obvious," Callen slurs, and _oh_ _God_, is he _trying_ to sound sexy? "I thought you knew," he shrugs, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops.

"Knew _what_?" Kensi asks, bewildered. None of this makes any sense. "You keep flirting with my friend, and now you kiss me?"

Callen frowns, narrowing his eyes at her. "Flirting with _Nell_?" he repeats as if it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard and with a hint of disdain that makes Kensi sick to her stomach. "The girl looks like she's twelve," he says, shaking his head in disbelief.

Kensi lifts a hand to her face, covering her eyes with her splayed fingers. "I don't – I don't understand," she says, closing her eyes briefly, wondering where things went wrong. "You're always so nice to her. Everybody's noticed it."

"She's your friend, of course I'm nice to her," Callen replies, his tone cold. "You always _insist_ on bringing her everywhere, it's not like I can come out and say I don't want her there. May as well get on her good sides since she means so much to you," he shrugs.

Kensi startles; they've had so much fun lately, so how can he say things like that all of a sudden? She breathes slowly, in and out, on the verge of pinching herself because this has to be a nightmare. How can she have been so _blind_? She's spent hours on the phone with Nell, talking about this look Callen has given her or how he's brushed her hand and already planning their wedding. She has encouraged Nell to be more confident and flirt back, and she was so sure that Callen was going to ask her out any day now.

And yet, here they are…

"Look, Kens," Callen cajoles, walking to her and brushing the length of her arm with a single fingertip. "I like you, and you like me, that's _obvious_. You call me all the time, asking me to come over –"

"To see Nell!" Kensi interrupts him, flinching away from his touch. "She wasn't confident enough to do it, so I tried to help you guys." She sighs then, her pulse point racing painfully. "And I don't like you!" she adds, her face flushed with anger. "Because every other girl fawns over you doesn't mean that you're irresistible. It's actually pathetic that you need to hang out with high school girls to get some," she spits, suddenly realizing that there is an entire world between the Prince Charming her mind has conjured and the real Callen.

Callen's eyes widen, the dark shade of desire turning into cold steel. He brushes past her on his way to his car, muttering something about Kensi being a _goddamn_ _tease_. Any other day, Kensi would say something and practice one of these self-defense moves her father insisted she learned on Callen for daring say such things about her; but she's too shocked to do anything.

How is she supposed to tell Nell that the guy she pushed her to date is a _jerk_ who just kissed her?

How is she supposed to break her friend's heart?

* * *

"You shouldn't have played with Nell like that," Marty chides her one night as they sit on the couch, pretending to care about the news. After the Callen debacle, Kensi had called him in tears, asking for advice. If Marty had been understanding at first, comforting her, he wasn't one to stand by and watch as someone he cared about was making a mistake. "Nell wouldn't be feeling so miserable if you hadn't pushed her into that guy's arms."

Kensi looks away, unable to hold his gaze. Feeling tears of shame pricking at the corners of her eyes, she bites on her lip, giving herself a moment to think of what to say. She never meant any harm; she genuinely thought that Callen was into Nell. What she had failed to see was that the signs she found so explicit only showed his interest in _her_ and not in her friend, who was now heartbroken, her newfound confidence gone. "I didn't mean to hurt her," she says in a low voice.

Marty softens, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before running his hand down her arm. "I know you didn't," he replies quietly. "But you shouldn't have gotten her hopes up and played the matchmaker. You can't toy with others' feelings when _you_ of all people are so reluctant to talk about your own."

He's right and Kensi knows it; it doesn't keep his words from cutting her deep. Disappointing him is just as painful as hurting Nell, because she's come to value his opinion and insight, often seeking him for help – and she hates this pang in her chest upon seeing the blame in his blue eyes, usually so warm.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel worse," he goes on, as if reading her mind. "I'm saying this because I love you and someone needs to tell you when you screw up, even if it hurts."

Kensi's head snaps up at his words, her dark eyes widening in surprise. The affection they share for one another is no secret, but it's the first time that any of them has ever voiced it – Kensi knows for certain that _she_ would never be able to say those words to someone first. If she's feeling a little flushed, Marty doesn't seem to notice it or care, nor does he seem to be embarrassed at his own display of affection; he just looks her in the eye until she gives him a little nod. "What am I gonna do with Nell?" she asks weakly.

"Stop meddling with her life?" Marty suggests, offering her a smile before he focuses his attention again on TV. "She only liked him because she thought he was interested in her. She'll get over him soon enough. That boy Eric will probably help with that," he adds with a wink.

Kensi's brow furrows. "How do _you_ even know about that?"

Marty laughs, giving her that typical smirk of his. "There are signs that do not lie, young Kensi," he says with that insufferable know-it-all tone, tapping a finger to her nose. "Like the little hearts drawn all over her textbooks or how she spent ten minutes telling me about the playlist he made for her the last time I came over. Do kids really _still_ do that?"

Kensi rolls her eyes, giving his arm a not-so-gentle punch. "Stop talking like you're a grown-up and enlighten me on the economical crisis," she says, bursting into laughter before finishing her sentence. The phone starts ringing before he can mock her, and Kensi reaches for it. "Hello? Oh, hi, Lauren," she answers. Marty frowns, immediately putting a finger to his lips, silently pleading her not to say he's here, and if Kensi's stunned, she quickly recovers. "He's not here, no," she tells his mother, to his immediate relief as Marty sinks back against the couch. "Dad didn't need him today, so I haven't seen him in a couple days. Sure, I'll let him know you wanted to see him next time I talk to him. Bye."

"Thanks," Marty breathes as soon as she hangs up. "I can't believe she called here."

"Why are you avoiding your mom?" Kensi asks, confused. Marty and his mother have always seemed close, so she doesn't understand why he wouldn't answer her calls or visit her.

Marty avoids her gaze, staring blankly at the TV screen. "We just had a little…disagreement," he says after a moment. "I just…I don't really feel welcome in my own home anymore. So I'd rather spend my time here, unless it bothers your dad too much."

There's pain in his voice that she has never heard, and it throws Kensi off balance for a brief moment. Her father has always welcomed Marty like a son, despite the dissolution of his marriage with Lauren; he's the one who offered a position of intern to him, who takes him to games Kensi pretends to be interested in just to spend time with the both of them. She doesn't understand why Marty would feel like a bother to them.

_She_ certainly doesn't mind his being there, not after how much she missed having him around when he started undergrad. Now that he's started his internship at her father's law firm, Kensi sees him almost every day and it feels incredibly _good_.

She doesn't know how to say it, though; she's not good with words, and her father isn't so keen on talking about his feelings either. So she gives Marty her trademark punch. "Make yourself useful and go get me ice-cream," she just tells him.

He rolls his eyes, grins and gets up. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

She knows it's a bad idea even before doing it; but it's only when Nell throws up on her shoes that Kensi realizes exactly how much of an idiot she is for agreeing to this.

After the misadventure with the infamous G, Kensi promises herself she will stop trying to find a boyfriend for Nell, favoring girl nights watching movies and eating ice-cream instead of partying. But then Lara says she's going to a party at her brother's frat house and _damn_, Kensi's sixteen and it's every high school girl's dream to go to a college party; even Nell agrees and says it'll be nice to go out and forget about _he who must not be named_. But of course Callen is there, despite Lara promising he wouldn't, and Nell starts drinking because she feels so humiliated and all in all, that's what everybody does; once again, Kensi realizes that her expectations don't live up to the reality, and she finds herself nursing a hangover Nell who can't hold up her liquor, surrounded by drunk people or couples looking for a secluded room for some privacy.

Although she knows he'll probably yell at her, Kensi also knows that Marty will come pick them up without telling her father. Locking herself and Nell in the bathroom, she picks up her phone and calls him, nervously chewing on her lip.

He's there ten minutes later, and without a word, he picks Nell up in his arms and motions for Kensi to follow him back to his car. She doesn't dare say a thing as she catches the homicidal look in his eyes, and the silence during the ride is deafening – she's never seen him this angry before, and though she knows she totally deserves a lecture, Kensi's impressed and a little scared of his reaction.

Marty doesn't speak to her for another twenty minutes, not until he's got Nell freshened up and asleep in his bed. Rubbing at the spot between his eyes, his voice is very calm, but also cold as he asks, "What exactly were you trying to achieve? Show you're not a little girl anymore?"

Kensi's mouth falls open, but the words get caught in her throat. It's the second time he's called her out on her behavior and she feels her cheeks heating up in shame. Twisting her fingers, she looks away, trying to come up with something to defend herself, but failing miserably. "I…I just," she starts, staring at her lap, "I just wanted to have fun. I didn't know things would turn out like this."

"You didn't _know_?" Marty scoffs, incredulous. "God, Kensi, you're not a child anymore," he says, his tone slightly softer, but his anger still very clear. "You're old enough to know what happens in that kind of parties. Do you have any idea of what could have happened to you two if I hadn't come to pick you up?" he asks, forcing her to look at him this time, tilting her chin up with his hand. Her dark eyes start to water, and _God_, he's never wanted to make her cry but _damn_, she needs to learn. "This doesn't sound like you. You're not the kind of girl who does stupid things just to impress people, and Nell doesn't seem to be like that either, so why did you do this?"

Kensi wipes at her eyes, her lips set in a thin line. She's angry with the entire world; with Callen for breaking her friend's heart, with Lara who was supposed to be their driver tonight but who got drunk within half an hour, with Marty for being right – but mostly with _herself_ for being so stupid. "Are you gonna tell Dad?" she asks, her voice nothing but a whisper.

Marty shakes his head, sighing. "I should," he replies, "but I won't. If you promise me that you won't do it again, _ever_," he says, his gaze serious as he looks her in the eye. "I don't think you realize how much danger you were in tonight, Kens."

"Nate was with us," she argues.

"_Yeah_? Explain to me what kind of guy brings his little sister and her friends to a party where everybody is at least five years older than them and drunk as hell?" Marty asks, the anger sparking in his dark blue eyes again. "You really think he was watching over you? I think he was too busy perving on you girls with his friends."

"Nate's not like that," Kensi says with a shake of her head, briefly closing her eyes as she tries to chase away the visions Marty is conjuring with his words.

"Maybe _he's_ not," Marty concedes, "but you don't know what people are capable of when they've had a drink too many," he finishes bitterly.

Despite herself, Kensi shivers at the shift in the air; it's been a long night and she's tired and spent, but she can still feel the tension radiating off of him. Scooting closer to him, she nudges his leg with hers. "I'm sorry," she offers quietly, knowing she owes him an apology both for disappointing him and involving him into this. He gives her a small smile, and it's the only encouragement she needs to push him to talk. "Does your mom…" Kensi starts, not knowing how to ask this, "Does she drink?" she asks bluntly.

"What?" Marty replies, his eyes widening in shock. "What makes you believe that?" he asks, frowning.

"It's just that you said you didn't want to talk to her because you disagreed with her choices, and now you're talking about what alcohol does to people," Kensi rambles, feeling nervous again.

His gaze darkens again, and Kensi knows she's hit a sensitive spot. "My dad," he only says after a moment. "He used to drink, _a lot_," he confesses in a low voice. "And when he drank he could get really angry for no reason, and yell at her. He hit her and she kept threatening to leave him, but then he'd apologize and it was all over. She drew the line the day he hit _me_ and she threw him out."

"Oh God," Kensi can't help but utter, her hand flying to her mouth to cover her shock. She could have never imagined that Marty had gone through something like this, he who is so warm and kind to people. "God, I didn't know…"

He turns to look at her, sadness and pain mingling in his eyes. "Of course you didn't know. There's not much to say, really. We never saw him again after that, until two weeks ago when he called my mom and told her he wanted to see us again. She agreed to have coffee with him; I didn't."

"How could she agree to see him after what he did to you?" Kensi asks, baffled. Lauren is such a lovely woman, she just doesn't get why she'd put herself in that kind of position after she'd so bravely put an end to it.

Marty shrugs. "That's what I told her, and she said that he was my dad after all and that I'd regret it someday. We argued and there was a lot of yelling, hence the not talking part and staying at your place all the time," he explains.

Kensi does something she never does then; leaning into him, she wraps her arms around him, hugging him tightly. If he's surprised or shocked, Marty doesn't show it; he pats her back instead before wrapping his arms around her too. "I promise I won't drink again unless you're there to watch over me," she says, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"Nuh-uh," Marty replies, grinning a little. "You're not drinking until you're legal. And until then, you're not going to a party unless someone is chaperoning. Someone who is _not_ a moron who brings kids to a frat party," he adds.

She promises.

(She's _not_ disappointing him again.)

* * *

After everything that's gone wrong lately, Kensi decides she wants a fresh start. She spends more time focusing on her homework instead of boys, and she convinces Nell to do the same – her _only_ good advice to her friend.

They're sitting at the kitchen table, working on a particularly hard Physics problem, when Nell looks up at her and says innocently, "Is Marty coming over today?"

Kensi's brow furrows, and she takes a look at her watch. "He should be there around six, I think. Dad's pretty busy these days so he lets him leave early so he can have dinner here with me. Why?" she asks, confused by her friend's sudden interest in Marty.

Nell blushes, a little gleam sparking in her eyes. "Oh, Kensi," she starts, flushing a deeper pink, "I – I don't know how to say this…" she says, nervously playing with her fingers. "He's just so nice and funny, and it was so adorable of him to take care of me when he had no reason to, especially considering how much of a fool I've made myself. I mean, I don't mean anything to him, and still he helped me and I don't know anyone else who would have done that," Nell rambles on, lost in her own thoughts and not minding Kensi. "And he's ridiculously charming, which doesn't hurt of course, and seriously, I don't understand how a guy like him can be single. I mean –"

_Adorable_?

_Charming_?

_Marty_?

Nell can't be serious, can she? Kensi looks at her with round eyes as Nell keeps talking about how handsome Marty is, how much better he is than Callen or any other boy she's met, and her blood starts racing in her veins. Nell can't be in love with Marty, the very idea is _ridiculous_. She doesn't even really know him; she's just grateful, that's all, and she's mistaking her gratitude for love.

And even _if_ she liked him, Kensi knows for sure that Nell is _definitely_ not Marty's type. He would _never_ date a high school girl, and Nell is the very opposite of what he needs; she's too sweet, too lovely, and Marty needs someone who challenges him and pushes his buttons. She can't let Nell make a fool of herself again. "And…do you think he _might_ feel the same?" Kensi asks cautiously, not wanting to sound like the very idea of them together is unthinkable, even if that's what she believes.

Nell blushes again, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I think so, yeah," she says softly. "I mean, he's always being so sweet to me, but not like Callen was," she adds quickly. "When I think about it now, I was so blind about him. But this time I'm certain. Like, the other night when I was having dinner with you guys, and your dad started talking about James Bond, Marty said they should marathon all the movies and he said I was _very_ welcome to join you."

Kensi frowns. She doesn't remember Marty offering Nell to join them – really, she thought this was a guy thing between her dad and him – but even if he did, it must have been because he didn't want to sound rude or like he was excluding her. He's just nice this way.

"Will you help me?" Nell asks, reaching out to take Kensi's hand. "I don't want to sound like I'm in over my head, but I can't just walk to him and tell him how I feel. Do you think you could ask him? Or try to know how he feels?"

_Hell no_ is the first thought crossing Kensi's mind, immediately followed by _What is wrong with you, Kensi?_ Nell is her friend, she shouldn't begrudge her a boyfriend, especially _Marty_. His hair is always messy and he smells like fish and he loves to get under her skin; maybe a lovely girl like Nell could tame him a little. Maybe it'd be all for the best.

_Hell no_, she thinks again.

Nell squeezes her hand, waiting for an answer, and Kensi feels her mouth go dry. How is she supposed to explain to Nell that she can't – _won't_ – help her get Marty because a little voice in her head is telling her…

Telling her _what_, exactly? That Marty is _her_ complete opposite and that it's why they're made for each other?

_What_?

This can't be happening.

"I'll talk to him," Kensi forces herself to say after a long moment, to Nell's excitement.

(What has she gotten herself into?)

* * *

Marty Deeks is the bane of her existence.

She can't stop thinking about him, even when he's in the same room. Their hands brush over the bowl of popcorn during movie night and she spills her Coke all over her lap; he asks her if she wants to go to the beach with him and the very idea of droplets of water rolling down his bare chest makes butterflies flutter in her stomach.

_Butterflies? Really?_

She's not into him – _she's not_. He's like a cousin you're really excited to see at Christmas but still glad to see leave at the end of the holiday. She likes him, but she doesn't _like_ him. He might be somewhat handsome, but his ocean blue eyes or his messy blond curls don't do anything to her. _No_.

_Maybe a little?_

"Maybe a little what?" Marty asks her, raising a curious eyebrow.

Kensi blushes, realizing too late that she said the last part aloud – thank God she didn't say _more_. "No-nothing," she stutters, unable to hold his gaze; maybe she has a thing for those blue eyes, after all. "Just thinking."

"About what?" he pushes, tilting his head to meet her eyes. "You've been acting weird lately," he goes on. "Starting with you wanting to help over at the firm. I thought you said law was boring."

_Law_ is boring; spending time at her father's firm with Marty, all dressed up in a suit, blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off his arms and that concentrated look on his face as he studies files…well, _that's_ a lot more interesting.

She absolutely _hates_ herself for having such thoughts.

Kensi ignores him, focusing her attention on the files she's supposed to sort out, or at least _trying_ to. But her gaze keeps shifting back to him instead of the red file she's supposed to put in the shredder…or is it the green one?

"Oh God, no, no, no," she says, panic edging in her voice as she lets go of the files, kneeling to the ground to unplug the shredder.

"What's going on?" Marty asks, getting up too to see what she's doing.

Kensi looks up at him, panic clear in her eyes. "I put the wrong file in the shredder," she says, collecting the pieces of paper in her hands, staring at them hopelessly. "Dad is going to kill me," she almost cries, frustrated. Why does everything go wrong lately?

Marty walks to her, tugging at her elbow to help her up. "Calm down, Kens," he says in a soothing voice, running his hands down her arms. "I'm the intern here. If someone needs to take the blame, it'll be me. I shouldn't have let you do my job. You shouldn't even be here," he adds, not seeing the flash of hurt in her eyes. "This internship means a lot to me, and I shouldn't have given you responsibilities like that. You should be hanging out with your friends."

She narrows her eyes at him, definitely upset now. "You think that's all I care about?" she asks, taking a step back from him. "I can be serious and focused when I want. I made a mistake, and I'll fix it."

"Kens…" he starts, visibly embarrassed at his poor choice of words. "Ugh, Kens, that's not what I meant," he goes on, lifting a hand to his neck and scratching nervously at the back. "I mean that this internship means a lot to me. I want to be a lawyer, and your dad is giving me a huge opportunity to learn. I want to be here, but you don't _have_ to, and you could be doing so many things more interesting than this."

"I want to be here," Kensi asserts, taking a small step closer to him. "I like spending time with you."

He smiles. "I like that, too, of course, but that's not why I'm here…I mean, not the only reason, of course," he rambles, and it's funny how much Kensi finds that cute when years ago she found it annoying. "This is a good learning experience for me, and I appreciate the opportunity your dad is giving me. He's the only one taking me seriously about this."

Kensi shakes her head and raises a hand to him, her fingers closing around his bicep. "That's not true," she says.

"It's not?" Marty echoes her, his grin growing bigger. "Are you saying you believe in me?"

"Marty," she says his name, rolling her eyes and aiming at his shoulder with her fist. He catches it in his hand, tugging at her arm to bring her closer, and…

She _never_ sees this kind of things coming.

His lips press against hers, and Kensi feels her toes curling as she steps on them to reach his full height, grabbing the collar of his shirt with one hand. _This can't be happening_, she keeps thinking before her ability to be coherent escapes her, except it is and it feels incredibly good.

He pulls back too soon, grinning like an idiot – and maybe he is an idiot, but he's her idiot and she's an idiot too – and Kensi feels her lips twitch up. "Good learning experience, huh?" she teases him.

He kisses her again, and she stops laughing.

(Can't quite laugh when someone steals your breath away.)

* * *

_the end_


End file.
